i thought, it would be so great, so perfect to look, purposefully look for the beauty in my days. these days that seem a bit washed-out. ordinary. it was as certain as the sun coming up out of the depth of the night for a breath of air: if i saw, if i located the sacred in my days, i would surely feel an absolute awakening in my soul. how could those two not be related? i strained my ears and my eyes. i looked. i forced that moment to be the moment of pure beauty. i was so sure that i could grasp it.
i'm empty handed.
[a stern pound of the bottom five keys on the piano, reverberating to a hush]
in my mind, i see the field in the back of my parent's farm, stuffed with tall stalks of corn. pale green tassels blowing in unison. the carved-out lane splitting these fields, shaped by the pressure of tractor tires over and over again. and that walk in beckoning sunlight and rich, blue sky. half-way down the lane, there is a rock. covered in rays of light, warm like the newness of life. it's just so simple to climb on to it. there is space to sit cross-legged. there is space to wrap my arms over my knees and rock back and forth on its surface. there is space to lay my back and head across it, legs slopped off of it to the ground. and it's perfectly situated like the stage of an amphitheater, but where i am not the one being noticed, but instead taking in the grandeur. i breathe-in the pureness of what i deemed as deep beauty. open space. sacredness.
my soul needs the resuscitating breath of open space and sweet breezes. and for such a long time, that is what i did. i went to the field to notice the beauty there. i went to the outskirts of town. i retreated to the beauty.
i've recently finished reading (listening to the audio) What we talk about when we talk about God, by Rob Bell. I found this very compelling: "When we talk about God, we’re talking about the Jesus who comes to reunite and reconnect us with the sacred depth, holiness, significance, and meaning of every moment of every day” (185).
it's not so easy to just leave and find a field of corn or wheat, an ideal sitting rock while in the middle of a city. a busy city. so i resolved in my mind to find the beauty right here. i don't need to go somewhere for it to brush up against soul and awaken the tired fibers of my being. i do not need to leave the common to go out to the holy. it should be here in the midst of my days. there is holy all around me.
beauty is in me. it is in others around me. it is God. and it is in the desert. here.
how do i invite authentic, relevant beauty into my life?
it takes a sharpness in my perception and my soul. refocus. it takes and opening and a softening. it takes prayer and seeking. seeking God to show me the sacred in the ordinary and the beauty in the mundane. and before the end of this post, i understand more now. i recall.